


Late for Dinner

by rufousnmacska



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, F/M, POV Cassian (ACoTaR), POV Nesta Archeron, a court of frost and starlight, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 18:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15395124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufousnmacska/pseuds/rufousnmacska
Summary: A post-acofas nessian one shot (only mild angst lol)





	Late for Dinner

The clock struck the dinner hour, reverberating across the quiet cabin. Nesta looked up from her book in a daze, slow to understand what time it was. 

He wasn’t home yet.

The weeks she’d spent in Cassian’s home had been horrible. After the first few days of fighting and screaming and demanding to be taken somewhere, anywhere else, she’d simply stopped, tired and deflated. 

She couldn’t go anywhere on her own. The only other place she knew was Velaris and she was not welcome there. Undoubtedly that prick of a high fae had spelled the perimeter to keep her away.  

And the cabin was isolated, miles from the nearest Illyrian camp, surrounded by a thick forest full of deadly animals. According to Cassian. Not believing him, she’d tried sneaking out the second night she was here. A short distance into the woods and she’d turned back, unsettled by the eyeshine from animals of varying sizes and cursing herself for not continuing her training with Amren. 

The splitting of the cauldron had diminished her powers, but there was plenty left to be a significant threat. She just didn’t know how to use it, or control it. The drinking had kept it dulled, along with the nightmares. And the sex had helped expend the built up energy. But as she had neither outlet here, her power had been steadily growing inside her. 

Cassian sometimes offered to take her with him, but she’d stubbornly refused. So their days had fallen into a quiet rhythm: he’d cook breakfast then leave to attend to his armies, she’d spend her time reading or sleeping, he’d return to make dinner. Often, he’d bring her a stack of books he thought she might like, usually with a smutty romance hidden in the pile hoping to get a reaction from her. 

And always, he’d talk, telling her about his day. About anything and everything; who had caused trouble with the females being trained, how he’d tried to defuse a camp eager to rebel, even gossip about some shop owner who sold him the books. 

She didn’t think he was trying to make her jealous since he always mentioned how much he thought Nesta would like the female. When he’d told her that Emerie had taken over her father’s shop despite the Illyrian taboo of females having their own businesses, she had been intrigued. 

But she’d refused to give him the satisfaction, refused to the point that she barely spoke to him.

And now, it was getting dark and he wasn’t home yet. 

He always came home. Every night, even if he had to inspect a camp that was far away. Whenever he’d returned from a long flight, she could see it in his slightly dipped wings, and hear it in his tired voice as he recounted his day to her. 

The clock rang softly for the half hour and Nesta realized she was pacing. The sun was sinking low enough to cast the woods in an ever deepening shadow..

Should she try to make her way to the camp? She knew the general direction, having watched him leave every morning. Maybe she could find this Emerie person and ask if she’d seen Cassian. 

After more pacing, and another chime of the clock, Nesta made her decision. She changed into pants and a few layers of shirts before wrapping herself in the heavy cloak he’d bought for her. She’d never worn it, or the fur lined boots she now stepped into. There was no snow yet but it was coming soon. And she didn’t know how far she may have to go.

After grabbing two large butcher knives from the kitchen, she went outside and paused. The night was silent and she didn’t see anything among the trees. Pulling the hood over her head, she started off towards the Illyrian camp, refusing to dwell on the voice inside telling her Cassian was never coming back. Not because he was injured, but because he’d finally given up on her.

 

* * *

 

He flew like a demon, pushing himself to a speed he rarely reached except in battle. The moon had risen, the night air was freezing, and Mother damn him, he was late. 

Damn Kyron too. The camp lord had been a pain in Cassian’s ass since long before the war. Lately, he’d been stirring up enough resentment and hate that a small contingent of his fighters had attacked a nearby fae village. 

Including the females in the unit he took with him to put down the unrest had been risky. But he trusted their abilities and wanted to make a point. Things were changing, whether the old guard liked it or not. And he would not stand for dissent, let alone an unprovoked attack on civilians. Kyron’s camp was now almost empty, his forces either distributed throughout other camps or sent to prison, where their leader would waste away next to them.

He’d left the remaining mess to Devlon the moment he’d realized how late it was. As he raced for home, a dark voice told him it didn’t matter if he hurried. She would have her head in a book and pretend he didn’t exist. Maybe he shouldn’t bring her any more and force her to talk to him. Or, only bring her the smutty ones. The thought made him smile and he began planning a quick trip to Velaris to get them when a strange flash of light from below caught his attention.

As he hesitated between going to investigate and continuing home, the light flashed again. It wasn’t a bright, white fae light, nor was it the sign of a siphon in use. it was dark, black. Though that didn’t make any sense, he thought, hovering above the forest. It pulsed again and he was struck by a wave of magic trailing it. He was thrown back from the force of it, but stayed in the air. It felt so familiar… so full of anger and fear and… Nesta.

Plummeting from the sky, Cassian had only one thought in his head. Nesta was alone in the forest and he had to get to her.

As he neared the crowns of the trees, he heard snarling from below, loud enough to carry over the sound of the wind, then another burst of light and magic. With a great beat of his wings, he hurtled to the ground, landing heavily behind where she stood. His red siphons were ablaze and the small clearing around them looked as if it were on fire from their glow. 

Nesta turned to look at him, eyes wide. Cassian scanned the area expecting to see some of the more vicious creatures for which these woods were known. But instead of finding them prowling around her, he saw only limp forms, blasted senseless - or worse - by her magic. He turned in a circle, growing more impressed with each second. Coming back around to face her, he beamed with pride.

“Nesta, I-”

Before he could say another word, Nesta ran for him and practically tackled him with a hug. Without a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, breathing her in. Gods she smelled good, like a storm at sea or riding a wind into the sky. When he inhaled again, he caught the underlying scent of fear, something he’d sensed in her magic. Pulling away, Cassian took her face in his hands and studied her. 

She was afraid, but not from the predators she’d killed. Not from the dangers she’d encountered in the forest.

“You didn’t come home,” she whispered, moisture forming in her eyes. “I didn’t know where to look so I headed to the camp and…” She trailed off, looking away from him as she realized what she’d admitted to. 

Cassian brushed a single tear from her cheek and pulled her back against him. He half expected her to smack him away, but she didn’t. As his hand gently stroked her hair, he dipped his head to her ear and said quietly, “There was trouble with a remote camp lord and I lost track of time. I’m sorry I didn’t send word.” She trembled beneath his hold and he squeezed her tighter. He didn’t know if her shaking was from using her magic, the cold, or just relief. Either way, they needed to get inside. 

“Are you ok to fly?” he asked. She nodded and let him swing her up into his arms.  

The cabin wasn’t far by air and he was disappointed to get there so quickly. When he set her on the ground, he kept his arms on her waist, reluctant to let go of her. She looked up at him with eyes so full of sadness his chest ached. 

“I won’t abandon you Nesta. No matter what.” 

She took a shallow, raspy breath. The desire to take her into his arms again and kiss her was overwhelming, but he didn’t give in to it. He would not push her, especially knowing how easily she could lapse back into her shell of silence. So he gave her a wink and said, “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted, eventually forming a frown. But a faint smile had crossed her lips, there and gone in less time than it took for his heart to beat.

She stepped back from him and turned to go inside. With a glance over her shoulder she said, “So tell me about this lord. I hope you taught him a lesson.”

“I’ll tell you about my day if you tell me about that magic of yours” he said, making his admiration clear.

She shrugged in agreement and went inside.

Cassian grinned and followed her into his cabin. He wondered if it would ever be _their_ cabin. A spark of hope rushed through him as he closed the door. There was something about the sight of her dirty boots thrown next to a pair of his, and her cloak hanging on a peg in the wall. And her stack of books on the table, one still open on the chair. And the way the entire place smelled like her. Like home.


End file.
